Westeros is officially in the middle of a civil war, and all parties involved—from the masterminds to the royalty to the smallfolk—are miserable. But who’s the most miserable, and why?

There’s a civil war happening in Westeros, and if you can believe it, everyone involved is having a terrible time. They’re fighting their inner demons—and losing. They’re fighting one another’s dragons—and losing. They’re fighting the patriarchy—and losing. Somehow, everyone on every side is losing, because as it turns out, devolving into all-out dragon warfare is not as cool as it sounds. Flesh is burning, skeletons are crumbling to dust under suits of armor, queens are dissociating at conference room tables, and the already unsettling Harrenhal hauntings are becoming even more … unsettling.

When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, but people don’t always talk about what happens in between those two poles: a really bad time. Episode 4 of House of the Dragon’s second season finally brought about the storied Dance of the Dragons, and while seeing three of those winged beasts dancing, clawing, and fire-breathing their way through the clouds was a sight to behold, one of those dragons died, another was grievously injured, and the last’s reputation is in shambles. Plus, because said dragons are living nuclear weapons, their squabble created quite a bit of chaos. Namely, the Queen Who Never Was and Mother Who Always Mothered, Princess Rhaenys, died; 900-plus soldiers died; Aemond maybe did a fratricide that led to Aegon getting burned to a crisp; and a terrible war has officially begun after 80 years of peace.

Then, in Sunday’s Episode 5, we see the aftereffects of such an explosion. How is everyone coping with their decision to do a civil war because they couldn’t just decide among themselves who the rightful Targaryen heir should be? In short, and to quote Bravo’s very own Mad Queen, Dorinda Medley: not well, bitch.

So, in addition to this week’s power rankings of our favorite Westeros inhabitants, it’s time to do a quick vibe check on their, ahem, personal states. Because these Targaryens and Targaryen adjacents may be slowly making their way toward the Iron Throne … but they’re much more quickly making their way toward a mass menty b. Does the maester brew any teas for anxiety? Alicent will take five. Let’s get into how everyone’s doing, starting with the people who are sort of OK and moving to those whose skin is melting off their bones:

Jace Velaryon

The vibes are: Frustrated; weight of the world on his growing shoulders; handling business; serving face.

But how is Jace doing? I may have fudged the intro a bit. While no one is having a good time learning how to wage a war … a few especially chic and sassy royal sons are at least prospering a little. After his mom kept him in the dark and raised his blood pressure so high that all he could do was angrily clutch his sword hilt like his sassy great-uncle/stepfather, little Jace Velaryon has revealed himself to be something of a diplomatic wunderkind. In a matter of weeks, Jace has single-handedly secured the North, the Vale, and the Twins and managed to grow out a perfect 3A curl pattern. Not to mention—and hats off to Harry Collett for the DNA—the prince is never not serving face while winning armies and crossings for his mother’s fight.

Inlines via HBO

He is maybe the only person on either side of the conflict who’s naturally gifted in wartime negotiations, telling the Freys they need not worry about Vhagar when he has his own dragon stationed just outside their walls (that’s not true at all, by the way, but it’s what they needed to hear—diplomacy!). And he’s definitely the only person who’s even hinted at a smile in the last two episodes. Y’know, in a way that isn’t directly related to murder (see below).

Aemond Targaryen

The vibes are: In his come-up era; also serving face; additionally serving fratricide.

But how is Aemond doing? Oh, Aemond thinks he’s doing great. He used all of his biggest vocab words in front of the Small Council, knowing full well that Aegon hadn’t hit a High Valyrian Duolingo streak in years. His dragon took down Team Black’s largest aerial weapon (RIP Meleys; you were a very good girl) in a plan that he created with Criston Cole and didn’t CC his brother, the king, on. Not to mention, he’s haunting Daemon’s dreams—something he doesn’t even know about but would absolutely love if he did.

But the young prince—excuse me, king regent—is flying very close to the sun on his giant dragon. He, uh … dracarys-ed his brother right out of the sky in front of a bunch of soldiers, including hand of the king Ser Criston Cole, who’s not exactly known for keeping secrets—or his moral judgments—to himself. Simultaneous kinslaying and kingslaying aren’t exactly the actions of someone who’s doing well. But they’re definitely the actions of someone who’s feeling pretty good about himself, despite the fact that he barely defeated a 60-year-old woman in battle and his big-ass dragon’s main move is apparently camouflage. Still, he has smirked and smarmed his way right onto the Iron Throne. Sort of. Not bad for a day’s (evil) work.

Baela Targaryen

The vibes are: Exhausted; empowered; the only adult in the room.

But how is Baela doing? The importance of EQ cannot be overstated in these trying times. I firmly believe that Baela is the only person in this broken family who’s actually doing OK because she somehow has the emotional wisdom and self-assurance of a tenured elementary school librarian. She is literally holding Team Black together and spitting nonstop bars while doing so.

These are, of course, extreme eldest sister vibes, and she will have to work through this premature amount of familial responsibility with a therapist one day. But for now, she’s successfully explaining empathy to her grandfather, giving invaluable wartime guidance to her stepmom, talking her betrothed down from dangerous rebellions into mere calculated risks, and absolutely holding it down in the skies and council meetings for Team Black. Gods bless Baela, and keep Moondancer safe.

Vhagar

The vibes are: She’s got a big reputation.

But how is Vhagar doing? OK, this dragon is old as hell, and Aemond is making her attempt kingslayings and get chewed up after she’s already seen hundreds of battles in her lifetime. Little Miss Wartime needs some sleep! She’s basically a grandmother who’s being used as a WMD by a one-eyed, power-hungry, second-born son.

But Vhagar is doing her job, as it were. Yes, she is chaotic, and yes, her reputation as a giant killer precedes her. But with two Team Black dragons slain by her signature sneak attacks, she’s by far more valuable than anyone else on Team Green. As a dragon, that has to be emotionally fulfilling. But as a dragon that’s also 180 years old …

Vhagar would probably like to get a little rest, have fewer holes in her wings, and have her rider’s bloodlust settle down a smidge before everyone inevitably starts gunning for her.

Corlys Velaryon

The vibes are: Down bad; crying on Driftmark.

But how is Corlys doing? He is the definition of “straight up not having a good time.” In the time that we’ve known him, Corlys has lost his beloved daughter, his beloved son (at least he thinks so), and now his beloved wife. His face permanently looks like this:

And now he’s getting dragged further into the conflict that killed his wife by being asked to be Rhaenyra’s hand. It seems like he plans to do it because it’s his duty to the realm. But it should really say something that the recent widower who has no heir and almost died himself just a few weeks ago is only in the middle of this vibes list. The kids are not all right.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

The vibes are: This shit sucks! But you gotta keep innovating.

But how is Rhaenyra doing? To be fair, Rhaenyra is doing about as well as any semi-queen could be after finding out that she got her throne jacked by her annoying little half brother because of an aural misunderstanding by her former best friend, current stepmom, and reluctant mortal enemy.

Now, Rhaenyra’s been having a tough go of it for a while. In a short amount of time, she’s lost her secret lover, her father, her best friend, her claim to the throne, her only female adviser, and her teen son. Plus her husband-uncle isn’t answering her ravens. That’s fucked up! So what’s wild is that while the vibes are terrible right now, with respect to how things are usually going for Rhaenyra, she’s kind of on an upswing. Sure, her extremely unreliable second husband is always on the verge of—and I’m quoting Sabrina Carpenter here—embarrassing her, motherfucker. And sure, none of the men on her Small Council respect her opinions, despite the fact that they all have the exact same amount of battle experience as she does (which is to say, none) and despite the fact that she is the Targaryen queen. And SURE, she made the wild decision to sneak into King’s Landing and talk to Alicent, the usurper …

But also, she’s got a little side hustle going with Mysaria to get the people of King’s Landing back on her side, and her war-savant son just realized they’ve got a few spare dragons, and there are Targaryen bastards all over the realm they could maybe strap onto said dragons. So things are only looking middle-level horrible. Yay, Rhaenyra!

Criston Cole

The vibes are: So bad I felt a human emotion other than hatred toward Criston Cole.

But how is Criston Cole doing? Oh, Criston Cole is not doing well. While simply a member of the Kingsguard, he did the royal shuffle with the dowager queen, soiling his white cloak to smithereens. Then the moment he got promoted to Lord Commander, the baby prince got his head sawed off because no one was watching Queen Helaena’s chambers. Cole somehow then got promoted to hand of the king, at which point the king himself lost half his square footage of skin during a dragon attack that Cole planned with the king’s attacker.

But the performance improvement plan Ser Criston is about to be placed on surely pales in comparison with the trauma he is experiencing after witnessing dragon warfare. He can’t look anyone in the eye, he inexplicably marched a severed dragon head through King’s Landing to prove the strength of the Targaryen king, he’s obsessively cleaning his sword, and he was told by Alicent to keep her name out of his goddamn mouth. Whatever touch Criston Cole had before, he’s lost it, and then some.

Alicent Hightower

The vibes are: Played stupid games; won stupid prizes; in a medieval situationship; using rocks for a heating pad; couldn’t possibly be worse.

But how is Alicent doing? There is no one more lonely in all the Seven Kingdoms than Queen Alicent Hightower. She has no friends, no close family, no advisers to comfort her. The allies she once gained through cunning and foot stuff have betrayed her in favor of naming her second son king regent, even though she’s the only person on the Small Council with leadership experience. She doesn’t even have the blessing of being dumb and/or unstable like her sons—she just has to sit in her fugue state at the council table, completely aware of what she’s done. Betraying her only friend in the world, usurping the rightful heir to the throne because she misunderstood the final words of a dying man with half a jaw …

Yet as you watch Alicent grapple with the weight of said mistakes, you witness her just as quickly convince herself that it was the only way. Have you ever seen someone gaslight themselves? It involves a lot of dramatic drinking from goblets and saying, “You know what he is, what he’s somehow become” about her own son. And while I have sympathy for anyone disassociating under the sheer weight of the Westerosi patriarchy, there is no denying the fact that Alicent has fucked around for far too long, and now she is finding out. Someone get this woman a friend, or at least a proper heating pad before she burns the kingdom to the ground.

Daemon Targaryen

The vibes are: HAUNTED.

But how is Daemon doing? Yes, Daemon’s ego is too big and his EQ is too low for him to admit that he’s having a terrible, extremely haunted time at Harrenhal—but he’s willingly taking teas from a witch (excuse me, barn owl), fucking a vision of his biological mother, and essentially cosplaying as a Harrenhal Property Brother so that he doesn’t have to return home and face his wife.

The man is so sleep deprived from being haunted by ghosts of groomings past that he seems to be mindlessly dabbling in treason. Additionally, he straight up cannot stop ordering the killings of kids. It’s like his main move at this point. Want power? Kill kids. Need an army? Kill kids. Want to win a war? Betray your wife, and have more kids killed for some reason. Daemon has completely lost his way at Harrenhal, and he shows no signs of getting it back. Plus, Simon Strong keeps waking him up in the middle of the night and reading him for filth.

If Daemon doesn’t leave this soaking-wet castle soon, he’ll be haunted to death. Or maybe learn how to do drywall.

The Smallfolk

The vibes are: Moldy citrus; decomposing flesh; decapitated dragon’s head.

But how are the smallfolk doing? Well and truly not well, bitch. And by “bitch,” I’m referring to each and every nasty royal who thought: These people are starving. These people are sick. These people are surrounded not only by rats, but also by the fragrant scent of the decomposing bodies of the people who used to catch those rats. You know what might cheer them up? The decomposing head of a giant, prehistoric beast. Let the smallfolk out of the gates—your town is a shithole!

Aegon Targaryen

The vibes are: Roasted; toasted; demoralized; dethroned; de-skinned.

But how is Aegon doing? The parts of Aegon that are left? They’re doing very badly. And the parts of him that peeled off on the armor that Vhagar lit up like a homecoming bonfire? Blissfully unaware of how close the body they left behind is to death.

Before Aegon even got cooked, he was already being embarrassed in front of his Small Council for getting left off the battle-planning group chats and not knowing how to conjugate a single High Valyrian verb. He dragoned under the influence, got Sunfyre—the most beautiful lizard in all the land—severely injured (or maybe killed?), and found himself on the receiving end of a little attempted murder. Aemond took his Valyrian dagger, stole his seat on the Iron Throne, and commanded Vhagar to crisp the better part of his torso skin.

And his mom won’t even sit at his bedside long enough for him to miraculously and briefly regain consciousness. In some ways, you could actually say Aegon is doing better now because at least he’s been relieved of doing a job he was never cut out for. But it’s also a fact that absolutely no one is doing worse than Aegon the Burnt King. Because it really is true what they say: You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a broken pile of goo in the same bed where your father once became a broken pile of goo. All hail the terrible vibes of Westeros.